


Soup

by Zoya113



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: F/M, Fluff, ive been testing it w sickfics lately so I’m not going to call it that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:34:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21832231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya113/pseuds/Zoya113
Summary: When Paul gets sick, Emma is sent off to his parent’s home on her own to collect something for him.
Relationships: Emma Perkins/ Paul Matthews
Comments: 8
Kudos: 50





	Soup

**Author's Note:**

> Im so sorry I have so many fics entirely centred around my hcs that they’re gonna stop making sense in a while, I’ve been in this gd tag since March and I am losing control lmao

“Paul, still not clearing up?” Emma held a hand to the side of his neck. His skin was hot.

“Nope,” Paul sighed. He had been sick for three days with a cold or some sort of flu. His voice was rough and croaky from coughing so much. 

“I’ll drop by the store on my way back from work tomorrow to pick up some more stuff for your throat.” She gave Paul’s arm a pat. 

“Thanks, ugh,” he tried to clear his throat but it came out in another painful cough that made Emma flinch back. 

“Paul. You’re like, dying. Can I do anything for you?” She tilted her head, laying down on top of the sheets so she could rub Paul’s arms. 

Paul winced when he tried to talk. “Would it be okay if you went out and picked something up for me Emma?” 

She nodded. “Yeah of course. What’re you in the mood for?” 

“I was talking with my mum this morning and she made me some soup. She used to make it for me all the time when I was a kid. It’s always made me feel better.” He smiled at the thought, cuddling into his blanket. 

Emma nodded, sitting up. “Yeah. I can do that. Do I just go to like, your parent’s place?” She sat cross legged, her hands gripping her ankles. 

Paul tried to sit up to speak to her, and Emma stretched out a hand to help him up. “Yeah, sorry. I thought you wouldn’t want to. They aren’t gonna bite though you know. They’re really sweet.” 

Emma nodded a bit more frantically. “I know, I get it. I’ll go, I’ll go obviously. It’s just a little awkward to go without you when I haven’t really, ya know...”

“Met them? Not officially but they still know who you are, Emma. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, I can ask her to drop it off.” 

Emma did consider it, but then she thought of all Paul did for her every time she got sick, and she couldn’t take him up on that offer. “It’s totally fine, babe. I’ll head on over after work,” she gave him a smile that she hoped would hide her nerves.

“It’ll just be a quick trip, Emma. I promise. She’ll give it to you at the door.” 

She gave him a thumbs up. “I’ll get that soup for you man. Promise.” 

Paul gave a sore-throated chuckle. He took Emma’s hand in his, bringing it to his lips to kiss. “Thank you, Emma.”

———————————————————

She baited her breath as she knocked on the door. She tugged at her work uniform to try and make it seem a little more modest. 

It felt like minutes, but it was probably only seconds until the door was answered. 

“Hello Emma!” Paul’s mother had a gentle yet excitable voice, it was almost reminiscent of Hidgens’. “How are you?” 

“I’m good, thanks, thanks for asking,” she began to fiddle with her bow. “I’m just a little busy looking after Paul. He’s a mess right now.” She hoped it was enough of an excuse as to why she couldn’t stick around for a chat. “He sent me to pick up some soup?” 

His mother beamed. “Oh of course! I’ve just got it in the kitchen. Step inside and I’ll run and get it for you!” 

Emma would have preferred to wait by the door, but she stepped through, closing it behind her as his mother hurried off. 

She rocked back and forth on her feet, trying not to let her hands raise up to rest on her hips. She had to put a conscious effort to keep them down by her sides.

Emma heard something scurrying nearby, like the patter of feet or something scrambling down the hallway. And that was when she saw it. 

A furry, white, little puppy, bumbling its way through the household. 

Emma’s jaw dropped, a small gasp escaping her mouth. 

The dog heard the noise and looked at her for a moment before barreling down the hall towards her, jumping up on her legs. 

“Hello! Hello!” She dropped down to her knees to pat the puppy. She tried to stroke its back but found it almost impossible to get past its head, which was turning side to side trying to lick her. “Hey little baby!” 

She managed to get a hold of his collar, looking at the name engraved on the tag. ‘Fluffy.’ Very unoriginal, but still loveable. 

“Ooh, I see that fluffy really likes you,” she heard his mother laughing, she had the same sort of rumbley-laugh as Paul. “He’s three months old. He’s very good at keeping us company here since Paul’s been getting too busy to visit as often.”

Emma found herself sitting all the way down, the dog immediately jumping into her lap to continue giving her attention. “Paul didn’t tell me you had a dog!”

“Oh we haven’t had him very long.” She set the dish in her hands down on the hallway table. “But he loves a cuddle. He looks very happy to have you here!” 

Emma nodded, running her fingers through his fur. “He’s lovely! And he’s just a baby!” 

“Well I think fluffy would love it if you stick around to play with him for a moment,” her smile was gentle. She wasn’t making any demands or using it as a facade to get Emma to stay, she was just offering her to play. 

Emma’s smile faltered for a second. “Oh, but Paul, I uh,” she stuck her thumb over her shoulder at the door. “I should get the soup home to him.”

But the dog scrabbled its paws on Emma’s thigh, jumping to give Emma’s face a lick, yipping at her. 

And Emma would never argue with a puppy. If he was insisting she stayed she may as well. “Uh, yeah! I can stay for a little bit I guess!” 

“Aw, thank you Emma! I’m sure he’ll love your company! Sometimes we get a little too busy to play with him and he has so much energy! You’re doing us a real favour. I hope it’s not a bother!”

Emma waved it off with a shaky hand. “Oh no, it’s all my pleasure. I really don’t mind at all!” She could barely take her eyes off the little puppy as it scampered down the hall, a little hop in its step. Emma had to walk slowly to walk beside the puppy and his small steps. 

He kept glancing over his shoulder to make sure Emma was still following. His curly fur was curtaining his eyes so all Emma could see was his smile. He let out happy, little bark when he found Emma was still walking with him.

Emma’s heart skipped a beat, sending a chill down her spine and giving her butterflies in her stomach and made her give a small yelp of her own.

When they got to the living room the dog spun in a circle, his beady little eyes darting around in search of something. His smile vanished to put on a more serious face. Then, with another yip and jump he stuck his muzzle under the couch, his paws swinging about to pull something out. 

A small ball rolled out from underneath and Emma’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my, oh my god. He’s got his own little awwww! His own little ball!” She dropped back down to the floor to pick it up. 

“Well he’s got a little mouth, so he can’t pick up a tennis ball. So he’s got his own miniature ball,” his mother answered from somewhere in the kitchen. 

Emma bounced the ball to the other side of the living room and the dog scrambled off to chase after it, running so fast he crashed into the cabinet. 

“Aww baby! Are you alright?” Her hand was fixed to her weak heart. 

The dog didn’t waste time, getting back to his feet and snatching up the ball before pelting right back through the living room to collide into Emma’s lap.

“You’re too excited! You’re going too fast little boy!” She was so excited her voice was almost a whimper. Her heart was racing with affection for the little creature, her head swimming, almost so dizzy it was ridiculous. 

And then the dog looked up again, dropping the ball in its mouth to give Emma another big smile. 

Emma’s heart couldn’t take it, and she tossed her head back to let out a noise that was almost a wail. “Awwwww! Baby! Little baby!” She scooped him up so she could hold him to her chest. 

“Oh he just loves you,” his mother returned, shuffling back into the living room with a book in her hands. “And you seem to really like him too!” 

Emma nodded, she was almost in tears, and she couldn’t stop laughing. 

“Oh look, Paul’s calling me now. I’ll just take this, give me one moment.” She moved to the corner of the living room to stay out of the dog’s way as Emma threw the ball for him.   
“Yes, hello Paul, how are you? Yes, Emma made it here safely. she’s with me now,” she shot Emma a smile as if to be teasing Paul for his silly worries. “No, she isn’t crying, she’s fine. She’s laughing. She’s just met Fluffy and they’re in love.” 

Emma let out a squeal as the dog dropped the ball prematurely so it could dive into her lap and lick at her legs and her hands.

“What was that Paul? You’ll have to speak up. I can’t hear you with that sore throat. Yes, Emma will be home soon I promise.”

Emma nodded even though he couldn’t see her. She didn’t want to keep Paul waiting when he was so sick. But when his mother hung up she sat herself down on the couch and patted the spot next to here.

“Here. I’ve just done some searching and I think you’ll like this.”

The dog hopped up first, so Emma followed willingly. 

“I found this little photo album from when Paul was just our little boy,” she set it down on her lap so Emma could see.

“Awww!” She cried again, but it was definitely a bit more mocking this time as she ran her fingers over the photos of young Paul. “Now that’s a haircut!” 

“Well bowl cuts used to be in,” she chuckled. “But he was a very handsome young boy. He‘s always been really into his computers and his tech even as a little boy. He wanted to build them when he grew up! He knew absolutely everything about them.”

“Oh he still does,” Emma snickered. “He’s just fascinated with all sorts of that computer stuff. I don’t get a word of it!” Emma shrugged as they flipped through the photos. “He still looks exactly the same!”

“What about you Emma? What did you want to be as a child?” 

“Ah,” Emma laughed. “I had no aspirations. I really just wanted to travel. I wish I my parents took photos of me as a kid! These are so cute,” she continued patting the dog with one hand, but began flicking through the photo album with the other. 

“Oh they didn’t?” 

“Yeah. I was a bit of a brat. Hated being in front of a camera.” 

“Well it’s never too late to start taking photos! You know, Paul always tells me not to tell anybody, but he says he loves to take your photo. He’s always going on about how pretty you are!” 

Emma blushed, her hands working a little faster at patting the dog. “He doesn’t say that does he?” The last thing she wanted was to start getting emotional around Paul’s mother. “Ugh. It’s caus I never let him say it to my face! What a sap.” She flicked the page just so that she could laugh at a photo of him as a teenager as some sort of revenge for saying those mushy things behind her back. 

His hair was shaggy and his face wasn’t shaved properly. He wore thick framed, square glasses and his skin was red from a break out on the side of his cheek. 

“Aw, I’m so glad he cut his hair!” Was all Emma could say. The photos of young, little Paul and the puppy that was still trying to jump up on her lap were just too powerful for her to handle, and so she chose to look away from the album to catch her breath, giving the dog’s forehead a small kiss. 

That was until his mother cooed, pointing at another photo. “This was Paul when he was six! He had the worst cold and we didn’t wake him up in the morning because we didn’t want him going to school,” she traced her fingers around the photo. “But the poor boy got up and dressed himself because it was a Tuesday and that was a school day so he just had to go!” She crooned, showing Emma the photo.

It was a slightly-blurry ‘in the moment’ photo of Paul standing in the hallway in tracksuits and his pyjama shirt. His shoes weren’t tied properly and his hair ungroomed. He had his backpack on and was gripping the straps between his tiny fingers. His face was red and angry like he was frustrated they had stopped him for a photo when he was going to be late for school. 

“It blew his little mind when we told him he didn’t have to go to school that day. We had to tell him it was a public holiday just to get him to go back to bed.”

Emma giggled, finding it hard to take her eyes off the messy photo. “I had to force him down yesterday. He said he was healthy enough to go to work, and I said ‘sure, but you’re contagious.’ And I had to call up his coworkers in IT to get their expressed desire for him not to come out and infect them,” she laughed at how stubborn he could be about his schedule. “Ah, that reminds me. I really should probably get back to him with his soup, his cold is awful and he’ll get worried if I’m not home on time. I drove here and sometimes that freaks him out.” 

“Ah, he’s always been like that! Paul just never changed,” she closed the photo album, setting it down on the couch and walking Emma to the door, the puppy trotting after her. 

“Thank you again for making soup for Paul. He sounds like he really likes it, and he could be using it just about now.”

“Oh it’s not a problem at all Emma!”

She leant down quickly to pat the dog goodbye before picking up the soup tray. “And thank you for letting me play with your dog!”

She scoffed, “any time Emma! Of course! You don’t even have to ask!” 

Emma tried not to let her jaw drop. “Really?” She gaped.

“Obviously! Fluffy and I enjoy your company very much. It was a pleasure to have you over, you’re always welcome Emma.” She gave Emma a pat on the shoulder to say goodbye, which she appreciated considering how little she liked being touched. 

Paul had found his way out of bed by the time Emma finally arrived home. The soup was cold already. 

“Emma! I was so worried, I thought you’d be home by half past five at the latest, it’s six! What were you doing?” He had the exact same flustered and frustrated face he had worn in the photo of him when he was six. 

Emma placed the soup down on the table, taking his shoulder to push him back to bed. “And what are you doing up? I specifically remember telling you to stay in bed.” 

“Well you scare me when you don’t come home on time!” 

“You told me to go and pick up your soup, boy. Now get back in bed.” She pulled up the covers for him to climb under. “I’ll go make you some soup.” 

He sniffled and coughed, grabbing onto Emma’s hand. “Hey. Thanks for picking it up for me. I’ll try to make it last. When I run out I’ll drive over. Sorry that I made you do that for me.”

“Oh Paul it wasn’t even a problem,” she rolled her eyes. “You can’t go back over there. You’re still sick. I’ll have to do it.”

He gave her hand another kiss, looking at her with these big rounds eyes. Cuddled up under the covers he looked so much like his dumb baby photos, it made Emma’s heart melt. “Emma, no it’s okay. I know you get uncomfortable doing that sort of stuff. I’ll go.” 

She shook her head. “No,” she took a strict tone. “You’ve got the worst cold. I guess I’ll just have to go back. There’s no arguing with that,” she shrugged. “I’ll go back over tomorrow after work.”

A smirk tugged at Paul’s lips, but he didn’t say anything. “Alright Emma. If you insist.”


End file.
